


Provocation

by MistressKat



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Ficlet, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: “What do you want, Tyler?”“Your attention,” Sam says, bluntly honest.
Relationships: Gene Hunt/Sam Tyler
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Scribblers' 100 Fandoms Challenge





	Provocation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt 'jealousy'.

“…a really stellar job, DI Tyler.” DCI Whitley’s smile is blinding, and maybe just a tad too wide. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.” There’s a small, almost imperceptible emphasis on ‘pleasure’ and when he shakes Sam’s hand, the touch lingers just a fraction too long. 

“And you, DCI Whitley. Thank you for your cooperation.” Sam smiles back, keeping his expression both polite and guileless. It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening here, he just doesn’t want to deal with acknowledging it. 

DCI Whitley is being reasonably subtle about it, and not unpleasant. Besides, the collaboration with the West Yorkshire Police could’ve been fraught with unnecessary jurisdictional posturing but instead it’s been more professional than many of the joint operations Sam took part in in the 21st century, and Whitley had been a big part keeping it that way. 

No easy task when having to deal with Gene Hunt. Especially Gene Hunt who was feeling territorial.

“You too,” Whitley says, and there’s some banked disappointment in his eyes as he lets go, but nothing that’s going to be an issue. He turns to Hunt and offers his hand again. 

“And thank you, DCI Hunt. I’m glad MacIntosh is in custody.” 

Internally, Sam has to admire the man’s social skills. There’s absolutely nothing to disagree about that statement, even though Gene visibly struggles to find something for a few seconds before reluctantly shaking Whitley’s hand. 

“Yes,” he says, brusque. “Bastard got what he deserved.” 

Whitley quirks a smile, says a quick goodbye to some of the others and then, with a wave of his hand, he’s gone. 

Sam can almost feel the way Gene’s shoulders relax when the door closes behind Whitley. 

“Good riddance,” he mutters, before stalking to his office, pointedly lowering the blinds. 

Sam rolls his eyes. It’s late in the day so he waits until rest of the team clears out, taking his time with the paperwork. Once everyone is gone, he gets up from his desk and walks to Gene’s office. The door is ajar, not closed, and Sam doesn’t bother knocking. 

“What do you want, Tyler?” Gene doesn’t look up, pen moving steadily over the forms spread out over his desk. For all his pretence of working, he’d clearly been expecting Sam.

There’s a frisson of pleasure in realising that, and Sam lets it rake its way through him, not bothering to suppress the smirk it leaves behind. 

“Your attention,” Sam says, bluntly honest. 

_That_ makes Gene’s head snap up. Rest of him too, as he slowly rises to his feet, tossing the pen onto the desk. 

“ _My_ attention?” he repeats, and yeah, there it is; bright as fire and twice as hot. “Thought you would’ve had enough attention over the last week? Whitley was all over you like flies on shit.” 

Sam grins and gives himself a mental high-five. He’d been right; it wasn’t just Manchester Gene had been feeling territorial over. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Not interested though.”

“No?” Gene’s gaze is dark and heavy, stripping Sam where he stands. 

And well, might as well help it along. “No,” Sam confirms, flicking the lock on the door before reaching up to tug his tie loose. “Thought maybe I already had it here.” He’s smiling openly now despite the way his mouth has gone dry, his heart racing. 

For a moment Gene looks absolutely gobsmacked, like he can’t believe Sam had just gone there, pulled into the open what they’d been keeping carefully wrapped until now, something known but not talked about.

Then his expression shifts into something sharper, something borderline dangerous, and he moves. Sam is already moaning by the time his back hits the glass wall of the office, the blinds rattling.


End file.
